Love life
by Ablemarle
Summary: Katarina doesn't want or need anything resembling a relationship. So how did she end up with some egotistical executioner? One-shot of KATARINA x DRAVEN.


**Love life**

**A/N:** I followed through with a tiny plot bunny. I thought it was adorable. 3 I love me some Noxians. Been playing League for a long time now, so I guess its been a long time coming that I write something for it.

Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or its characters in any way. They belong to Riot!

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Katarina had no need for a relationship. She swore it to herself up and down. The redhead was as lonely as a hermit and she _liked_ it that way. The most human contact she had was staring at the back of the heads of victims before she slit their throats. Serving the Noxian army as an assassin was not acquiescence in her case, for the seemingly dainty soldier was content with her place and her lifestyle. She would set out at dawn and maybe catch a few people on her list while they were asleep to avoid struggle. After her workday was done, she'd return to her home in beautiful Noxus. In her comfy black leather couch, studded with spikes on the armrest, the assassin would curl up with a book on military strategy and a cup of coal black tea. This was every day for her. Although, it was a monotonous and repetitive, Katarina found no reason for change. It suited her quite well for her tastes.

That's why she was appalled at the news some squire boys from Demacia told her of the rumors about her and Garen. "Long lost lovers caught in a feud between countries! A modern day Rulio and Joliet!" They said, as she sharpened the blades she intended to kill them with right there on the top. Katarina felt the scar on her eye twitch in annoyance. The last thing she needed, or even wanted, for that matter was a lover. And to say her 'relationship', if you could call it that, with Garen was anything but hatred and fierce rivalry was ridiculous. In all honesty, she'd rather publicly consummate with Urgot, assuming he even had the ability.

After this fatal engagement, for them anyways, the petite assassin decided to procure a more deserving fate for the two. They didn't seem to have any strong connection to any higher-ups, and so she was given right to do as she pleased. Her cruel streak shone through like the destined silver dagger in Garen's jugular vein. (That had always been a part of her fantasies.) She had put away her daggers and sent for her personal messenger, who appeared briefly. The messenger was a meek boy with tufts of brown hair, some of his scalp was covered with scalds and hair refused to budge there. Katarina handed him a curt message addressed to the ever-impudent Draven.

Draven had strolled in, still as pompous as all get out, and proceeded to order his two hand-men around. "Grab 'em so you can get outta here. Draven's gotta talk to his Kitty Kat." The executioner grinned at his nickname for the redhead.

The two men saluted him before they grabbed the young Demacians by the scruffs of their necks. The nameless ruffians tossed them in the steel barred cage and rushed them away; the Demacians were nearly kicking and screaming.

"I don't have time for this." Katarina bit out and let out a small huff.

"Neither do I! Got blood to spill and people to kill." Draven let out a wide smile and grabbed Katarina around the waist.

Katarina was tempted to tell him those were basically the same thing, but she was already going to pull a knife from her side-pouch. Before she had time to give Draven a cautionary slice into his fine leather and fur robes, he was brushing her scarlet hair from her face and rubbing a thumb against her cheek. The executioner pulled the assassin in by the jaw and placed a deft kiss on velvety lips.

Katarina dug her nails into the crook of his neck, not out of pleasure, but in order to hurry up and move the display of affection along. Draven constricted around her waist tighter and pulled himself in deeper to the kiss.

Yes, a relationship or a lover was the last thing Katarina desired. Yet, here she was wrapped up in this prideful, infuriating and infinitely _charming_ executioner's arms.


End file.
